


Delirium

by bookworm03



Series: Adult Relationships [8]
Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Best Friends, F/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2015-11-12
Packaged: 2018-05-01 06:30:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5195687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookworm03/pseuds/bookworm03
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leslie knows it's fleeting, but it gives her something to hold on to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Delirium

**Author's Note:**

> Part of a post-college AU series, though this part takes place in their senior year of college. Leslie and Ben have been best friends since high school and aren't sure how to manage their feelings for each other. 
> 
> It can be read alone, but I recommend reading it as part of the series. 
> 
> You guys are all amazing, beautiful, tropical fishes. Thank you for reading/leaving kudos/sharing your thoughts/sending me love. It never gets old. You're the best. 
> 
> Enjoy! (I know, it's not the part some people wanted yet, I'm a tease, I'm sorry.)

“LE-LES-LESSSSSSLIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” 

Oh god, there he is again. She thought he'd sleep at least another hour. Ann groans, cracking her neck and gesturing to her bikini. 

“I'm going into the hot tub and you should come. Let Henry nurse him back to health. He's his actual brother.” 

“LEEEEESSSSSSSSS! I NEEEEEEEEED YOUUUUUUUUU!” 

“Oh, _god_ ,” Lucy, one of Henry’s friends from Chicago, lifts an eyebrow. “What the hell did they give him?” 

“Morphine and then Percocet,” Ann answers. “Seriously, you can’t sit inside all day again. It's Spring Break. Make Henry babysit him and come - ”

“LESLIE I NEED YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUU BABYDOLL!” 

Lucy crinkles her nose. “Ew, what if he’s passing it. Do you have to be there for that?” 

“Ew, Leslie, he’s a grown ass man, do not let him talk you into holding his hand while he pees his stone out.” 

“LESLIE - ”

“OH MY GOD, IF YOU DON’T SHUT THE FUCK UP RIGHT NOW I’M GOING TO MURDER YOU!” Henry erupts from the kitchen. 

“That,” Leslie clears her throat. “Is why Henry can’t sit with him. It’s fine, I’ll just make sure he doesn’t…pick up anything sharp and…maybe we’ll go sit on the beach. Yeah, we’ll do that. We can sit on a blanket…” 

Ann groans. “Lesssss.” 

“It’s fine, Ann.” 

“I know it’s fine. He’s fine. You don’t need to - ” 

“Dear god, Les, please. I’m about to shoot him,” Henry appears in the doorway. “Seriously, he’s…how many of those things did he _take_?” 

“Just the one,” Ann shakes her head. “He’s really sensitive.” 

Leslie stands with a sigh, glancing longingly at the frothing hot tub on the deck and thinking about how wonderful it would feel on her shoulders after lugging her backpack around all semester. Later, though, it would still feel wonderful. Ben would be out cold again soon. 

“Hiiiiii Leslie!” he’s propped up on his pillows, one arm of his shirt off revealing his pasty white stomach and an angular shoulder. His plaid pants are still on, thankfully. If he tries to pee in front of her she might die. 

This guy, this adorable, goofy, ridiculous human being is tied with Ann Perkins as her best friend in the entire world. He surprised her with this Spring Break getaway, showing up at her place after her last class and kidnapping her to Lake Michigan where Ann, his brother and a few more friends met them. He planned this because he knows she's been missing Ann and stressed out and, on occasion, a little lonely, and had then driven four hours south to get her first before driving them both north to the house they’d rented. 

She's kind of totally in love with him, can you blame her? 

And then, the day after they’d arrived, he collapsed in the bathroom in excruciating pain and Henry and his friend Rob had literally carried him between them to the car to take him straight to the ER where he was found to have a rather large kidney stone. 

Now he's drugged, heavily, waiting to pass the organ invader, and silly affectionate. And no, it isn’t a big deal she misses a few turns in the hot tub or a canoe paddling excursion to stay by in case he needs anything, or just to keep him company. He'd do the same for her. Leslie isn’t functioning in a delirious cloud of love for him, it's the truth: Ben would have sat beside her all day, without question. 

“Hi Ben, what can I do for you?” 

“I PASSED IT! ALLLLLLLL BY MYSELF!” he tries to high five her and gets air. “Now my penis won’t hurt.” 

“You…what?” 

“Uh huh. I saw. It’s there…go see,” he flails at the bathroom door. “It’s not even that big, it’s like…” he pinches his fingers together demonstrate the size of the calcified rock that just exited his urinary tract. She shudders as the toilet flushes.

“It’s there. I looked because I’m a wonderful brother,” Henry comes back in, making a face as he slaps her shoulder. “Don’t let him take any more of those pills now.” 

“LES - LESLIE, LESLIE, LESERLY, COME HERE!” Ben flails, stretching out his hands and trying to reach across the room. He seems to think he’s Elastigirl because he appears irritated when his arms don’t extend far enough to touch her. 

“Yes, Ben,” she smiles gently and steps over. “What can I do for you?” 

“You’re so beautiful,” he slurs. “Like, super duper, beautiful. Like a bug…” his nose crinkles like he’s struggling with a word. “Like a bug…buffer…buggerfly. Like a beautiful bufferfly.” 

“Les, I’m not sure there’s any coming back from _bufferfly_. I really think I might need to take him out back and shoot him.” 

“Noooooo,” Ben whines. “I don’t wanna go with youuuuu, I wanna stay with Leeessssslie Knope.” 

She squawks when Ben decides to cling to her for dear life. He jolts up with surprisingly agility, arms winding around her hips to hold her against him. His face presses between her breasts. 

“Sooooooo beautiful,” he sighs. “A beautiful snuggly, snugbug, snugger-doodle. Words are hard.” 

“Do you want me to find a gun? Someone has to have a gun around here, right?” 

“Ha, ha,” Leslie would wave him off, but she can’t. Ben’s pinning her arms to her sides. “Go, I’m fine.” 

“Are you sure? He could suffocate you.” 

“NO,” Ben shouts, the vibrations echoing in her chest. “I would NEVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER HURT LESLIE. I LOOOOOOOOVE LESLIE.” 

“Great. We’ll be on the deck.” 

“I’ll…we’ll go sit on the beach, yeah Ben?” she frees her arms. “Fresh air? Oxygen? Why don’t we go do that?” 

“I looooooooove the beach.” 

“You'd love a cavity right now,” Henry quips and moves beside the bed. “Okay, buddy, let’s see if you can stand on your own.” 

Ben doesn’t whine too much when Henry hoists him up, draping an arm over his shoulder while nudging Leslie to grab the blanket from the bed. Henry steps back to leave him to his own devices and Ben almost face plants into the dresser, so Henry grabs him again. Clearly, he cannot walk on his own yet. 

“Nooooooo, I don’t want you. I want Leeeesssssslie.” 

“Well, tough. I know I'm not a beautiful bufferfly, but this is the only way you’re getting to the beach," he grunts. "The sooner this stuff burns through you, the better.” 

 “Bro, bro,” Ben clutches at Henry's shirt suddenly. “M’sorry. I love you too. You checked my pee. Did you see my stone? Wasn’t it crazy? Like…it’s super weird to think something…” he trails off with a dreamy expression. “How can something so small cause so much pain? Life, man. It’s amazing.” 

Henry stares hard at Ben before turning back to her. 

“Fine, I won’t shoot him, but can I duct tape his mouth and lock him in a closet?” 

It takes them ten minutes to make it to the beach 100 yards away. The sand is cold and packed under Leslie’s toes. There’s a bit of a cold breeze, but the sun’s out and after being in the hospital all day yesterday, it feels nice. Ann had stayed for a while and Henry had told them both to go home multiple times, but Ben had kept asking for her - though, without the gumption he had today - and she’s probably making way too much of the fact that, high as a kite, the only person he _asked for_ was her. 

But he had, she wants to insist to the voice in her head that sounds like Ann Perkins. With no filter to speak of, affectionate, dopey, delirious Ben had made it very clear all he wanted was her. 

Couldn’t she read into that _a little_? 

Leslie spreads out the blanket and Henry pushes Ben onto it, who’s looking way too entranced by the sand sliding between his toes. Henry helps Ben put his shirt back on and then throws the hoodie off his back at him, which Ben manages to help himself into with a clueless smile. 

“Ben, I’m going inside and trying to figure out what we’re eating tonight and calling Mom, so you stay here and be nice to Leslie.” 

“Kay,” he yawns and mumbles. “M’just really sleepy now.” 

Henry ruffles his hair with an eye roll before turning to Leslie. “Text me if you need me. I’ll be back in a bit.” 

“Leeeessssslie, Leseeeerrrrrrrrrrrly, Lessseerrrrlyyy Knooooooperly,” Ben whispers, reaching out and dragging her into his chest once his brother's gone. She goes easily, lying them both back and stroking his hair. 

“Yup, still here.” 

“You’re my best, best, best friend in the whole world. I love you sooooooo much.” 

“I love you too.” 

“Ohmygosh,” he slurs. “What…wait, hang on a…okay, listen, I have the greatest…s’so great. Great. I have this great…really great idea. You know Star Wars, right?” 

Okay wow, he’s really far gone. They’ve only watched it five times a year for six years. The whole trilogy in one sitting, five times a year for six years. 

“Yes, I know Star Wars.” 

“Okay, so y’know what would be like…so, super awesome…if…okay, wait,” he sits up abruptly and holds out his hands. “Wait. So…whoa, it’s spinny up here, babydoll,” he juts out a hand and she gives him hers. “Kay so, s’what…yeah, what would be so…super…so super awesome would be…whoa, hey.” 

She had sat up beside him. He cups her cheek. “It just got like… _a million percent_ more beautiful up here ‘cause you’re here. And that’s not even possible…’cause you can’t ever have more than a hundred percent because a hundred percent means everything, the whole thing, but people say that all the time and it’s just so wrooooong. Like, because, math, right babe? Like you can't eat more than one hundred percent of a calzone.” 

His forehead bashes hers and she winces. “Sorry,” he kisses the spot she’s rubbing. “Sorry. OH YEAH,” she jumps at his outburst but he doesn’t notice. “So, what we should do…is…you’re…you’re gonna be Leia and I’ll…I’ll be Han and you’re gonna say ‘I love you’ and I’ll just say,” he drops his voice an octave and slants his gaze. “‘I know’ and it’ll be super awesome.” 

_How long had he been waiting to pull out that one?_

“Hey,” Leslie broaches gently. “Heeeey, instead of doing that right now, why don’t you lie down with me and we’ll just relax.” 

“Can we roleplay later?” 

“Sure, we can roleplay later.” 

“Cool,” he kind of barrels into her, knocking them both backwards as he snuggles into her breast. He’s hot. Burning, but not in a clammy, feverish way. In a way that makes her want to worm under him even more to cut the early spring chill. He sighs and kisses the swell of her breast through her v-neck sweater. Leslie tenses as Ben rubs her hip. 

“I love you.” 

“I know,” she tries to mimic Leia’s cavalier retort and apparently succeeds well enough. Ben grins into the skin of her shoulder and kisses again, and then again, and again; little, fluttery kisses that end up all over her chest and collarbone and then her face, until she’s laughing and squirming and his fingers are drumming against her sides ticklishly. If she closes her eyes and he stops talking she can float to a world where he’s consciously choosing to smother her with his lips. 

“I just wanna kiss you eeeeverywhere.” 

“Well, it tickles.” 

“I love your laugh. It’s so loud and laughy.” His grin is lopsided, his lovely brown eyes dilated out of focus. 

“You are not going to remember any of this; I should get it on video tape for blackmail purposes.” 

“Noooooo, Leslie, I feel like that all the time. Promise. I al-alllways wanna do that. I always love your laugh.” 

He kisses her forehead, nose, and then presses loud and sloppy to her mouth. She can’t help but smile as he nuzzles her neck and relaxes. That's the closest thing to a real kiss he’s ever given her. 

Except that night…but that night had been all her and him pushing her away. That didn’t count. 

When he presses his lips to her neck lightly and asks if she’s warm enough with a gentle squeeze of her waist, she melts into a puddle. That’s always how she imagines him to be, sweet and considerate juxtaposed with heady and raw. That’s how the sex is in her dreams. 

The hand stroking her hip slows and Ben’s rattly breathing turns to soft puffs against her skin. The water laps, and in the distance she can vaguely hear the sounds of people in the hot tub back at the house. She’s certain Ben’s passed out and her own eyes are starting to drift closed when he speaks again. 

“Les?” 

“Mhmmm?” she rubs his neck. He doesn’t sound slurred anymore. His voice is lower, raspier and more even. He sounds almost like Ben - her normal version of Ben - only stripped down and needy. 

“I really love you,” he kisses the little patch of skin behind her jaw. “Will you marry me?” 

She laughs softly, pushing away the tightness in her throat, and brushes his hair back. Of course he would say something like that _like this_ \- as if he doesn’t torture her enough without meaning to. 

“You, Mr. Wyatt, are so silly.” 

“No, I love you,” he kisses her lips again longer, sloppier, wetter. Her stomach clenches as her fingers cup his neck instinctively. 

“Ben,” she whispers, guiding him away. Her pulse is racing. Silly kisses are one thing, but this? This isn’t silly. This is making something stir inside her that isn’t an easy laugh. Something that will still be there when he’s back to himself, and Leslie’s sure that’s not a good thing. 

“Ben,” she touches his chest and manages a smile. He can’t kiss her. Knowing how his mouth feels, the pressure, the way his unshaven lip scratches hers, she can’t have that in her memory bank. She can’t hold onto that for later, put the knowledge in a box and bring it out only when she really needs to feel it. It will consume her, filter through her pores, embed in her veins and find purchase in her soul. She can’t know how Ben Wyatt kisses because it will make it too real. Too possible. 

“You kiss nice.” 

“And you’re very, very drugged. Lie down.” 

He gives her another long kiss without any warning and her toes brace in the sand. Her hand returns to the back of his neck, and in this haze of Ben she considers this option, considers just lying still and letting Ben make her toes curl in the sweetest, tamest way possible - with a closed mouth, his nose rubbing hers, his hand on her hip and a silly smile she can feel. She considers letting his delirium consume her too. 

“Kiss me again, Les.” 

God, that sentence...those four words are everything. 

“You can’t just kiss me, Ben,” she whispers, though it almost comes out with a sob. He can’t just kiss her. It makes her want to kiss him more which would basically be taking advantage of his state, because he’s very unaware and goofy and hopeless. 

“I don’t want to just kiss you, I told you I want to marry you,” 

“And I want to marry you too,” she tells herself she’s humouring him. Tells herself she wouldn’t say that if he was alert and saying all of these things and kissing her. Tells herself non-delirious Ben would never say these things anyway, even if this version of him feels eerily close. 

Ben slides down her jaw and pecks her neck. 

“Good,” he exhales, lips ghosting up to the corner of her mouth. “Now kiss me again.” 

“One kiss.” Tells herself it’s for him, not her. 

“And then you’ll marry me.” 

Leslie laughs until his mouth finds hers. It’s slow and thorough and lasts way longer than is emotionally healthy and probably counts as ten kisses. He shifts against her, not to press or rearrange, just to cover her, surround her. Drugged or not, Ben's got great kissing instincts because he just knows where his hand should go to on her side, how much to tug with his lips, when to smile, to murmur, to groan. When he finally pulls away her breathing is ragged, her lips are swollen and her heart’s in throat. He _really_ can’t just kiss her like that. 

Ben slumps, right across her body, pinning her to the blanket and going limp. She wishes he could draw the tension out of her muscles too because every instinct she has is telling her to go, to run, to extricate herself from the situation. She won’t, though. She’ll pay the price tomorrow because today it feels too good. Ben’s weight on top of her, the curve of the sand against her back, the cool breeze on her face, the smell of the trees - it’s perfect, it’s bliss, it’s nirvana. 

“Night, babe,” he murmurs, clearly missing the sun high in the sky. 

“Night, Ben,” she presses her mouth to his forehead, the feeling of his lips on hers refusing to dissipate. She wants to keep it though, to lie there caught up in his goofy, ridiculous, blissful delirium, knowing all this will be gone in the morning and cherish what she can from it. 

So, she does. 

*****

She doesn’t tell Ann about the kissing because honestly, she’s not ready to yet. She’s not ready to hear why it was stupid and why it’ll only make things harder for her. She wants to enjoy it for a little while first. 

The next morning she’s the first one up. She’s sketched a few rough outlines for upcoming papers, made a pot of coffee and pancake batter, and mapped out a trail hike she wants to go on. Ben had been groggy the rest of the night after the beach, only eating a few bites of a burger before going straight to bed. Nobody heard a peep from him after that. 

The creak of the old tiles tells her someone’s behind her. 

“Morning,” a hand rubs her hip lightly. Leslie smiles and turns to face him.

“Hey!” she beams, because his eyes are clouded with sleep, but directed. Focused. He’s a little worse for wear, but Ben again. “You look so much better!” 

“I feel better,” he breathes deeply. “A lot better now. And starving. Also, I’m super sorry for anything I said or did while under the influence, because I…honestly don’t remember a hell of a lot of the last two days.…” 

She’d expected this, but the admission still cuts like glass. 

“Yeah, you were silly,” she rubs his arm lightly. 

“I do remember I said I was dying about fifteen times, and almost breaking your hand a lot.” 

“You overestimate your grip strength.” 

He snorts, winding his arms around her shoulders without warning and pulling her into his chest. 

“Thanks anyway, Knope.”

“I just helped Henry.” 

He kisses her hair. “Don’t buy it,” he mutters and they just sway for a minute. 

“Okay, what’s the plan for today? Where are we going? You wanna try a hiking trail or rent a canoe or something?” 

She’s grinning, she can’t help it. Being with Ben like this when he’s aware and still choosing to hold her…that’s a whole different kind of delicious delirium. 

“Whatever you’re up for. Both sound good.” 

He smiles crookedly, a little side-mouth smirk that’s so totally him but had been absent the last two days. Her heart flutters always, but even more now when she realizes that same mouth had been pressed against hers less than twenty-four hours ago. 

Maybe Ben wouldn’t remember their kisses, but she would, without question, for the rest of her life. 

Maybe it was meant to be just for her. 

Or maybe she’ll put it in her memoirs. The nameless friend who’d proposed under the influence and kissed her into the sand on a beach on Lake Michigan in her senior year of college. The guy who made her feel deliriously happy for fifteen amazing minutes… 

Either way, it's something to hold onto.


End file.
